Page 318 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
But every once in a while, there will be a moment like this one where they look so completely identical that if you took a freeze frame and only showed me their faces, I wouldn’t be able to tell who is who.
I take a deliberate bite of food, chewing slowly, then take a long swig of water.
They watch and wait, their eyes tracking my every move. “Seeing as how I’ve never seen him in a movie,” I finally say, “I’m not sure I could possibly judge.”
“But hewasgorgeous.” Lucy says this like it’s a statement, not a question.
I shrug. “I really liked his house. The outside, at least.”
“She’s face to face with Flint Hawthorne, and she notices the house,” Summer says dryly.
“Come on, Audrey,” Lucy says. “Try? For us? There has to be something you can tell us.”
I pause, my fork hovering over my plate. All things considered, the man I met this afternoonwasobjectively handsome. Fit. Nice jawline. Nice hair. Blue eyes that I can conjure in my mind with very little effort. A smile nice enough to trigger a dopamine spike.
I put my fork down as a flush rushes through my body, warming my skin as I remember the way he looked at me when he asked me my name.
Lucy gasps. “Oh my gosh.” She reaches over and grabs Summer’s arm. “She’s blushing. Audrey never blushes. What happened? What aren’t you telling us?”
I roll my eyes. “Nothinghappened.” I grab my fork and shove a giant bite of pasta into my mouth. “Yes, he’s handsome,” I say. “I noticed. Is that what you want me to tell you? He was wearing a T-shirt. Jeans. His hands were dirty like he’d been working in the yard. But he’d be more handsome if he would let me onto his property.”
“He was working in his yard?” Lucy asks, her voice small and dreamlike. “That’s so sexy.”
I scoff and stand up from the table. “Is there more? If there isn’t, you guys better start eating or I’m going to steal your plates.”
“There’s more,” Lucy says as she protectively crowds around her food. “No stealing.”
When I’m back at the table, plate heaped with a second serving of pasta, my sisters are both eating, but their eyes are still wide, like they’re processing something unbelievable.
I don’t get it. So the man is famous. It’s his job just like biology is my job or the law is Summer’s job. Why should we treat him any differently than we treat anyone else?
“I don’t think you’re understanding what we want, Audrey,” Lucy says, her fork hovering in the air. “We need a play-by-play. Every single thing he said. Every single thing you said. All of it.”
They can’t actually be serious, but their expressions are sincere and earnest. I breathe out a sigh. “This is ridiculous.”
“I fed you dinner,” Lucy argues. “Indulge us.”
“Fine, but it isn’t a very exciting story.”
I walk my sisters through a quick rundown of my interactions with Flint, even backing up enough to include our run-in at the Feed ’n Seed this morning.
The only thing I edit out is Flint’s attempts to make me smile. It’s probably silly, but in the back of my mind, I somehow know that if I imply a movie star was flirting withme,my sisters won’t believe it. I might be as socially adept as an alligator snapping turtle, but I do have some pride. I’d rather not feel the sting of their disbelief or hear them laugh at such a ludicrous idea.
“And that was pretty much it,” I finish. “We shook hands. He wished me luck. He said goodbye.”
“You touched him,”Summer says dreamily. “You touched Flint Hawthorne.”
“Who cares?” I say, even if the thought does make my gut clench the slightest bit. “It doesn’t change the fact that now heknowsI’ve been on his property, and he’ll be looking for me if I go back.” I slump back into my chair. “It would be a win for me workwise if I could find evidence of these squirrels. And right now, I need a win.”
Summer frowns. “Have you still not heard from the foundation people about your grant?”
I shrug. “It’s still under review, but my gut says they’re going a different direction.”
Even though I’m technically an employee of Carolina Southern University, my research is funded by grants—not the university itself. The universitydidown the forest—it was left to the school when some fancy alumni person died—but they weren’t able to get an official state designation as a research forest, so after three years of trying, they sold it.
To Flint Hawthorne, apparently.
I’m not deluded enough to think that discovering white squirrels in Polk County would save my grant. But it would give me the chance to validate the research I completed for my PhD. And itmightmake it easier to find new funding, if (when?) it comes to that.
